The Sick-a-Bed Lady: And Also Hickory Dock, The Very Tired Girl, The Happy-Day, Something That Happened in October, The Amateur Lover, Heart of The City, The Pink Sash, Woman's Only Business

In Short

This collection of ten short stories breathes with the turn-of-the-century sensibilities of its author, Eleanor Hallowell Abbott. Through vignettes of "sick-a-bed" heroines and ardent, often bumbling, suitors, the stories explore the intersection of physical vulnerability and emotional vitality. Characters frequently find themselves grappling with isolation, broken promises, and the desperate, sudden need for companionship. While the language and social mores reflect a specific era, the underlying exploration of how people construct "home" and purpose within transient, often chaotic lives remains deeply human and resonant.

The Story

The stories within this volume operate as a series of emotional landscapes where characters constantly navigate the delicate threshold between illness and vitality. In the title story, the "Sick-a-Bed Lady" commands a world defined by the mahogany bedstead, the chintzy wallpaper, and the tiny, silver-toned bell that summons her caretakers. She appears frail, a girl of fifteen in spirit, yet she stands at the center of a drama involving a young doctor who is fiercely determined to save her. His devotion is not merely medical; it is a desperate attempt to claim her, a refusal to let a woman he loves be treated as a "waif" without a home.

Across the other tales, this pattern repeats: the intense, sometimes feverish search for a partner or a place to belong. We see characters like Noreen, who accepts a proposal and expects her violets "all at once," displaying a childish, defiant malice that masks a deeper hunger for security. We witness the "Woodland Girl," Chloe, who finds the city’s heart to be a hollow, decorated box and flees toward the promise of home, only to be drawn back into the web of human complications. There is a frequent rhythm to these lives—the sudden, crushing loss of a lover, the subsequent descent into a "horrid dream" of existence, and the agonizing, slow process of re-emerging into the world.

The arcs of these characters are rarely smooth. They are marked by "the queer, sad, salty pucker" of tears and the sudden, electric shock of a miracle. When a "Blue Serge Man" returns after being presumed dead, his reappearance does not simply fix the lives of those around him; it disrupts them, forcing a confrontation with the reality of his survival. The stories reach their conclusions not always through tidy resolution, but through a shift in perspective. A pink sash might be sent across the country, not because it will cure the patient, but because it is the only physical gesture of care available. The characters eventually learn, through heartbreak and recovery, that life is not about the avoidance of storms, but about finding the "Harbor" that is meant for them.

How It Unfolds

The setting of the stage Each story begins by establishing a high-strung, atmospheric environment, often centered on a specific room or a physical limitation that forces a character into introspection. The reader is quickly immersed in the sensory details—the scent of tobacco, the chime of a clock, or the stark, looming presence of a fireplace.

The onset of the fever A sudden, destabilizing event occurs, breaking the character’s fragile equilibrium and forcing them to confront an unfulfilled desire or a hidden fear. Whether it is a broken engagement, the arrival of a long-lost suitor, or the realization of profound isolation, this beat drives the character toward a state of heightened emotional response.

The struggle for resolution The characters act with impulsive, often reckless intensity to regain their footing, engaging in dialogues and actions that are both poignant and slightly frantic. They test their surroundings, push away those who would help, or desperately grasp for symbols—like a pink sash or a bunch of violets—to anchor their identities.

The acceptance of the new state In the final beat, the fever breaks, and the characters are left to reconcile their former selves with the reality of their changed circumstances. The endings are rarely "happy" in a conventional sense; rather, they are marked by a sense of survival and the tentative promise of a deeper, more grounded vitality.

The People

The characters are defined by their intense desires and their tendency to view the world through a lens of extreme, almost heightened sensitivity. The "Sick-a-Bed Lady" is the quintessential figure of this collection: frail and physically constrained, yet possessing an indomitable spirit that attracts the devotion of the Young Doctor. He is driven by a protective, almost possessive love, viewing himself as her rightful rescuer. In other stories, we meet characters like the "Political Economist" and the "Poet," who approach romance with a strange, analytical distance, tying their physical movements to the hope of winning the object of their affection. Noreen stands out for her defensive, elfish charm; she uses her engagement as a shield, defying the world with her demands for violets and her questions about her worthiness as a stepmother. Madge Hubert is perhaps the most self-aware, grappling with the performative nature of femininity and the frustration of watching others succeed through displays of "helplessness." These individuals often begin as isolated, fractured figures. Their journeys are defined by their movement away from self-conscious, romanticized versions of their lives toward a more stark, often painful, but ultimately vital recognition of who they are and what they require to feel "alive."

In Its Own Voice

"The Sick-A-Bed Lady lived in a huge old-fashioned mahogany bedstead, with solid silk sheets, and three great squashy silk pillows edged with fluffy ruffles."

The author describes the stifling, luxurious isolation of the title character’s world.

"I've been in Cuba," he continued quite abruptly, "and I meant to play dead forever and ever. But there was an autumn leaf--a red autumn leaf in a lady's hat--and it made me homesick."

A returning character explains the small, fragile detail that shattered his resolve to disappear.

"If you shake it hard enough, it may rattle, but it won't throb."

A character critiques the emotional emptiness they perceive in the heart of the city.

What It's Really About

At its core, this collection investigates the fundamental human need for an "anchor." The stories argue that vitality is not a default state but something that must be constantly negotiated, often through the support of others. There is a deep-seated anxiety about the "price" of love—what one must give up to be truly seen or understood. The narratives question whether romantic pursuit is a search for a partner or a frantic attempt to prove one’s own existence. In these pages, being "alive" is a verb, and the characters are constantly struggling to keep that flame burning against the encroachment of silence, boredom, and the "all-goneness" of loss.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the lush, slightly overheated prose of early twentieth-century literature will find much to admire here. It is an atmospheric experience; the stories feel like peering into a well-appointed, dimly lit parlor where the conversations are frantic and the emotions are always just near the surface. You will feel the weight of the period’s gendered expectations, particularly in the way the female characters are encouraged to be "helpless" or "ruffledy" to attract partners. These attitudes are on full display, and modern readers may find the relentless focus on "courting" and "marrying" to be a limitation.

However, the book stays with you for its raw, unflinching look at the physical sensation of grief and the way a single object—a clock, a sash, a hat—can tether a person to their past. It is not a book for those seeking modern psychological nuance or fast-paced plots. It is, instead, for the reader who wants to spend time in a world where the stakes of a dinner party, a telegram, or a piece of music are treated with the gravity of a life-or-death crisis. It is a slow, intricate study of what it means to be desperately, humanly awake.